


Uncomplicated

by Finsternis



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 02:57:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13067661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finsternis/pseuds/Finsternis
Summary: Things you do with your AirBnb host.





	Uncomplicated

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Butts_h for the proofreading, and for her general awesomeness.

It was raining when Sebastian made it out of the bus at Victoria Station. He grabbed his suitcase and put up the hood of his rain jacket. Sebastian has always hated umbrellas. He took the tube to his AirBnb, wrestling his suitcase over the steps. He checked and rechecked the address on his phone. This moment has always made him feel a bit giddy, a bit on edge. Like the address could have been imaginary and he would end up in London with no roof above his head. 

The address was quite real though. And the code to the door the guy told him worked. The feeling of relief was almost overwhelming. Sebastian looked up the stairs. There was no elevator and Seb carried his suitcase upstairs, making little stops to catch his breath. He stood for a while in front of the presumably right door - green paint a bit worn, a peek hole shining brightly. 

Sebastian imagined the guy watching him through it, and tried to catch his breath quicker. He knocked. Nothing happened. Sebastian felt a bit stupid, wondering whether enough time had passed till he could knock again. Maybe his host was in the shower, or maybe he was finishing an email. Or he forgot Seb was coming and was not home. Sebastian knocked again and to his relief he heard a key turning in the lock. 

Seb's heart sped up like it always did when he was about to meet new people. What will they think? Will they hate him? Will they think he's impolite? Seb plastered a smile on his face, trying to make it nice and polite and not too fake. Sebastian hated fake smiles, and he was very bad at them. 

Mark, the guy from the AirBnb profile, opened the door and looked at him. Seb read through all the reviews on his page: welcoming, great host, we-had-everything-we-needed, communication-went-well. The welcoming Mark was smiling at him. 

"One can tell you are German. Just on time." He greeted and stepped aside to let Seb into the flat. Sebastian introduced himself and shook Mark's hand. It was a good confident handshake and Seb liked it a lot. He looked around noticing Mark's socked feet and an untidy row of shoes on a shelf and lowered himself to untie his shoelaces. 

Mark took his suitcase and rolled it to one of the rooms. Seb thanked him - a bit extensively, probably, but Sebastian has always felt distinctly uncomfortable when people did things for him that he was capable of doing himself. Mark chuckled and showed Seb his room. It was tiny, not more than fifteen square feet: there was a sofa bed a small wardrobe a desk with touristy brochures neatly laid out and a chest of drawers from IKEA, a thin shabby looking rug on the floor and tidy blue curtains. 

On the sofa there was a pillow and a pile of sheets and towels. "The sofa transforms into bed," Mark informed. "Just push the back down," he instructed. 

"Thank you," Seb said smiling. "Bathroom is down the hall," Mark said, "there is an empty shelf in the fridge, feel free to use the kitchen," he continued the tour of his apartment, Sebastian trailing him. The flat wasn't big, but nice, it was very lived in, there were pictures of the cars on the walls, some of them autographed, in the open planned kitchen and living area stood a big shelf with books and more pictures and souvenirs. 

Seb guessed Mark must be very well traveled: there was stuff which looked very African - masks and a little wooden figure - a boomerang and a little golden plate which said New Zealand. The framed poster on the wall advertised the 1995 Le Mans 24h race. 

"Wow, you have an amazing place," Sebastian said, actually meaning it. It was nice and reasonably tidy and it kind of told a story. The man who lived here had interests and passions and he has been places and he read a lot. One of the books on the coffee table was open, Seb couldn't see the cover but it was quite a thick one.

"Thanks, mate," Mark shrugged. He handed Seb the spare key and the Wi-Fi password written in untidy writing on a post it note. Seb thanked the man again, nipped to the loo, trying to make no noise and wiping the wet sink with toilet paper after having washed his hands, and headed to 'his' room. 

Sebastian opened his suitcase and unpacked a bit of his stuff putting it neatly into the wardrobe. He pushed the back of the sofa down as instructed and made his bed for when he was going to come back in the evening. Seb changed into jeans which were not wet all the way up to his knees and took a pair of dry sneakers. He put his phone into his pocket, said a polite ‘bye’ to his host and headed out to explore London.

Sebastian came to London for sightseeing. It was a good plan - spend the reading week in the city now when he was in the UK anyways. His Master's degree in business studies at the Manchester Business School was not too tough, and since he worked hard enough during the semester he could afford to use reading week for the stuff other than reading.

Sebastian came back to Mark's flat late at night, he turned the key trying to make as little noise as possible. He contemplated postponing a shower till morning so not to disturb his host, but the wish to get warm won over. Seb grabbed his pyjamas and a towel and headed to the bathroom. It took a while till the water got warm. Seb tried not to touch stuff too much and gathered his things not to leave anything that might annoy his host. He made sure there were no blond hairs anywhere and headed to bed. 

The room was cold. But after almost half a year Seb got used to cold rooms in England. He climbed under the blanket and wrapped it around himself. He was shivering a bit and decided that it was no good, so he grabbed a hoodie and a pair of socks.

Sebastian spent three days in London when on Thursday, coming back from his exploits he found Mark in the kitchen, drinking wine. Seb greeted him politely, he was tired and had a bad case of acute loneliness. He wanted to go to a pub, but going to a pub alone felt wrong so Seb bought some pre-packed sandwiches at Sainsbury's and went home. 

Seb easily called places 'home' because he really didn't have one. He lead sort of a nomadic student life, dashing from the Uni in Frankfurt to exchange semester in Italy followed by the postgraduate course in Manchester. He came to his parents' house for holidays, and it felt strange. Like he had never left, and he wanted to run away. 

"Join me," Mark said meanwhile, getting another glass. Seb blinked looking at him, wondering whether Mark was being polite, or he did actually want him to join. "C'mon mate," Mark encouraged in his squishy voice. 

Sebastian nodded, put his camera on an empty stool and took a place across from Mark. Seb didn't like red wine very much, but his alternative would be to hole up in his room and eat his pre-packed sandwiches. 

Seb looked at Mark, looked properly, now they were sharing a drink it was appropriate. Mark was handsome - strong edgy features, two-day stubble, green eyes. It struck Seb as odd that he noticed what colour his eyes were. Sebastian has never really got the whole eyes hype, and he usually didn't notice the colour. A worn t-shirt was hanging off Mark's pointy shoulders and just looking at Mark made Seb feel cold. 

"Thanks for the wine, it's nice," Seb lied, after they clanged their glasses and he took a little tentative sip. Sebastian looked at Mark's hands. He liked people with nice hands - long fingers, narrow nails. Mark's hands were beautiful and Seb suddenly felt the urge to touch them. 'Wow! Where did that come from?' Seb thought.

He sort of knew. Seb suddenly wanted to know more about his host: what music he listened to, when did he go to Africa, has he been to that Le Mans or did he buy the poster at a flea market. He wanted to know why Mark lived alone. There was no sign of any female presence in the flat and Mark didn't look like someone who might lack attention. Most of all he wanted to ask why Mark was drinking alone.

Almost to his own surprise Seb asked - not the last question - no-no-no the one about Africa. Apparently, Mark went on a safari seven years ago. He liked RHCP and Metallica but admitted that lately his consumption of music turned into a random conveyor belt of Spotify playlists. He worked as a software developer at an insurance company and liked dark chocolate. Seb thought he should get some as a ‘thank you’, when he would leave.

Seb listened to Mark's quick paced language, full of light headed metaphors and gesticulation. It was nice listening to Mark and Seb suddenly became very grateful for the offer to join and not hole up in the room with an electronic copy of an outdated novel on his phone.

Sebastian became mesmerized by Mark, he turned out to be surprisingly easy to talk to, opinionated without a hint of arrogance, witty and funny. They have finished off the bottle and when Mark yawned Seb smiled at him taking it as his cue to head to bed. He thanked his host again and wished him a good night. Seb changed into pyjamas and hoodie and headed to the bathroom he smiles sheepishly at Mark and suddenly felt embarrassed. It suddenly mattered that he must look ridiculous in his current outfit. 

"Are you cold?" Mark asked. Seb shook his head, unwilling to be ungrateful or too demanding. He wasn't paying Mark much for the room to be demanding, anyways. "I'm good, thanks," he assured and went to brush his teeth. When he came back to his room, he found an extra blanket on this sofa bed. 

Sebastian lay in bed, wrapped in the blankets and unable to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Mark - his cheeky smile, his lanky figure, his beautiful hands, very neat for a man. Sebastian suddenly imagined how it would be to kiss Mark. Not the all tongues and hungry, but slow gentle tentative kiss. This was new, and at the same time it wasn't. Sebastian wasn't gay, but he certainly wasn't straight either. He had... experiences. Trying to find himself. He wished he actually were gay, that would give him something, some sort of identity. But Seb wasn't. He was just lonely and desperate and thinking of Mark made him feel the warm pulsing arousal.

Seb bit his lip and breathed in the scent of the sheets, hiding his head under the pillow. A part of Seb, a desperate selfish part hoped Mark would feel just as lonely. Unlonely people don't drink red wine on their own. Seb was fascinated. Mark was quite a bit older and he has been places, he has probably had a myriad of experienced lovers. And he probably wasn't even interested in men in the first place, let alone Seb.

This didn't prevent Seb from daydreaming. He didn't daydream much about sex. He dreamed about a hug a little unpromissing kiss on Mark's sharp collar bone, about lying with his head on Mark's shoulder, breathing in his scent. Seb felt mean and desperate and stupid and a bit disrespectful. If Mark knew he would probably be disgusted with Seb. But Mark didn't know and Seb was thinking about that little mole on Mark's neck.

Seb slept in the next day, partly because he was running out of London, partly because he didn't want to have a chance to bump into Mark. He wasn't sure he could actually look him in the eyes.

Sebastian walked around the city taking pictures, trying to find interesting angles. Mostly taking pictures of people. People were interesting. People had lives and stories and in those stories Seb came up with, they had names and they were happy and not lonely.

Seb has never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend, not properly anyway. When he was younger he didn't get the thrill, and now he felt like he forgot to learn something important in the whole relationship thing. He had several unspectacular one-night-stands, never had a proper sex with a man, but did stuff himself. 

Sebastian was drinking coffee in a small café on Regent street, looking through the pictures on his camera, when his phone pinged with a message from Mark. Sebastian bit his lip, hesitantly opening the app. His hands were shaking a bit, a strange excitement making him feel edgy. 

"Wanna join me for dinner tonight? Nothing fancy just some Aussie grub." The message read. Sebastian looked at the screen, read the message again, then a couple more times. "Sounds awesome," he typed. "Tell me what to get? Some more red wine?" Seb asked. He didn't want to owe Mark anything and a good bottle of alcohol could be a reasonable exchange. 

"I've got stuff. Just let me know when you are here." Mark replied almost immediately. "Whatever works for you," Seb texted back. Mark's invitation gave him something to look forward to, something to be excited about, something to be terrified of. 

Seb got some Glenfiddich. He wasn't much of a whiskey guy, but he thought Mark might be, and headed home at around seven. Needless to say, since he got Mark's text, Sebastian was looking at his watch every ten minutes willing the time to go by. 

He wondered why Mark would want him to join for dinner. Maybe Mark indeed was just a bit lonely. When he told Seb about his travels he had never mentioned other people and Seb wondered, maybe Mark - handsome and interesting Mark - was one of those chronically lonely people, whose loneliness rarely depends on who was around.

These chronically lonely people, got so attached to their loneliness that once there was someone on the horizon - no matter in which capacity - they built up walls and got all arrogant and self-centred. Or they dived in so fast and so deep into the relationship, that it all got a bit scary for all parties involved. Seb, sadly, considered himself to be an expert on the latter.

Once back home, Sebastian used the spare key Mark gave him and took off his shoes, adding them to the wonky line of Mark's on the shelf. Seb found Mark in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and working on a glass of red wine. Seb watched him for a couple of minutes before announcing his presence. 

Mark's lanky figure turned around and he smiled, showing his perfect teeth. "Evening, mate," he greeted and Seb really wanted to hug him, a stupid and a bit of a childish wish. 

Seb insisted on helping with the dinner, fulfilling Mark's gentle orders meticulously. Seb suddenly imagined, how it would be to be a different person, to have a place he called home, to be with someone permanently, to live with someone, to cook meals together. It was a very inappropriate thought, of course. Seb doubted someone would want Seb in their life on a permanent basis. It's not like Sebastian was a terrible person, but as the majority of lonely people, he was very selfish in a lot of ways. Of course, it didn't prevent him from being absolutely selfless in the others. 

Mark asked about Seb's day, going through the trouble of using Sebastian's full name every time he addressed him. It sounded oddly personal, maybe due to the rarity of anyone doing that. Sebastian didn't go into too much detail, a bit embarrassed by his childish enthusiasm about the red buses and neo-gothic architecture. If the day before the topic of their conversation was mainly Mark, today it was Seb, or to be precise, Sebastian. It was Sebastian's degree, Sebastian's interests, Sebastian's internships and career plans. 

This Sebastian turned out to be a person quite different to the one Seb mostly saw in the mirrors. His degree suddenly became interesting and challenging, his banking internship turned from PowerPoint engineering into an exciting opportunity of coordinating a multimillion pound merger. His lonely traveling turned from no-one-would-join, into a freedom and more immersive experience. Seb wasn't lying per se, he was just telling Mark how this all was supposed to feel, not how it did feel. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Mark asked, somewhere mid-meal, before taking another sip of his wine. He put the whiskey aside, after thanking Seb and assuring, it was absolutely unnecessary. "A boyfriend?" Mark added, before Sebastian had a chance to answer. 

Seb could feel himself blush. He has never thought his partial indecisive gay-ness was somehow evident. For a split second Seb felt almost outraged, but at the same moment grateful. Sebastian hated this question, it has always sounded like an accusation, like a declaration of his failure to build meaningful relationships, to build any relationships. This question was what usually made him suddenly consider his chronic loneliness a choice rather than an incurable decease. 

"No, I prefer to concentrate on finishing my degree, and finding a job. A relationship with a woman… or a man, would be a distraction," Seb replied. This was a lie, a blatant horrible lie, and judging by a knowing, slightly arrogant chuckle, Mark wasn't buying it whatsoever.

Sebastian, of course, included 'or a man' on purpose, to lure Mark into telling him, whether he was interested, without asking him straight out. This was a question, which when asked to a wrong person could land you with a black eye – not that Seb had made this experience, but he didn't intend to, either. 

Mark remained silent for a second, then stood up to collect their empty plates, turning his slender back to Seb. The thin t-shirt hung on his shoulders, and Seb could see Mark's lean muscles move underneath it. More than anything Seb wanted to press against this back, to kiss the nape of Mark's neck to touch his body.

Seb suddenly thought how big Mark's cock would be, and whether he would be able to blow him properly. Mark's question opened the Pandora's box in Seb's head, feeding his mind with the images, which were likely to look far better in the fantasy than in reality. But Seb's mind didn't care. 

Seb wondered what was Mark thinking, did he want him? Did he ask whether Seb was gay because he wanted him? Did he care if Seb wanted him, a strange perverse thought crossed his mind that Mark could do whatever he wanted with him, now Seb was at his place, at his mercy. Maybe that's what Mark did – invited people to stay over and then did stuff. It was ridiculous. More ridiculous was the fact, that Seb got quite excited thinking these things, and he hoped his hoody was long enough. 

Mark crossed the room and lowered his hands on Seb's shoulders. Seb's heart picked up a pace. A human being was deliberately touching him. It wasn't the mindless touch of an acquaintance at another dull student party, it wasn't a tap to attract his attention, it was a real deliberate touch. Mark's hands were resting on Seb's shoulders because Mark chose to put them there. 

Another second and Mark leaned to kiss the top of his head. There was something to the gesture that made Seb's heart sing. Like he was something special, something fragile, something to handle with care. Sebastian was quite happy that Mark didn't see his face. It was such an intimate moment, that Seb was not quite sure he wanted Mark – an almost stranger – to see him. 

Mark moved away, and before he could remove his hand from Seb's shoulder Sebastian put his hand on top of Mark's. Mark's skin was surprisingly rough for such a beautiful hand, he didn't pay attention to the texture of Mark's skin when he greeted him four days ago. Now Seb did. And he liked it. 

Sebastian stood up, braving to look at Mark. He was quite a bit lower, three or four inches, and he had to look up to meet Mark's eyes. Mark wasn't smiling. He was looking at Sebastian quizzically, like trying to read something written in a small font. 

Sebastian desperately wanted Mark to kiss him. Now with mere feet between them Seb could see every little hair of Mark's short dark stubble, the pores of his skin, the green of his eyes, with a little of brown right next to the iris. Seb wanted Mark to kiss him, and didn't want him to notice his erection. 

Mark didn't kiss him. He stroked Seb's hair instead, looking intently at his face. Then he smiled and slid his hands over Seb's waist and pressed him closer. Seb gasped at the surprising swiftness of the move, the embarrassment clearly visible on his face. Mark did kiss him then. 

It wasn't the kiss Sebastian was hoping for. It was all hungry and rushed, and too much tongue, and aftertaste of red wine. Seb wasn't sure it wasn't him who took it down that route. Somewhere mid-kiss Seb wondered whether Mark would fuck him. Not just fooling around, but really fuck him. A part of Seb wanted to ask, but he was worried it was premature.

Mark tugged his head to the side, licking all the way up Seb's neck up his ear. Seb bit his lip. He didn't want to make sounds. It always looked so unnatural in porn, and when he touched himself, fingers in, hand around his cock, he never felt the need to make sounds other than breathing. 

Sebastian laced his hand through Mark's hair, pressing him closer, feeling Mark's own erection against his body. Seb felt flattered. 

Sebastian suddenly worried too much when Mark got too close to a small pimple on Seb's face, when he slid his hands under Seb's shirt. Sebastian wasn't fat, but his body wasn't as ripped, as crafted as Mark's. He was a bit soft around the edges. This fact bothered him enormously, but not enough to chase him to the gym, or make him forego Italian. 

For a second Seb worried Mark would change his mind, for a second he worried Mark would carry on regardless, that he was a charity case for the older man. A game, an entertainment. Mark moved things along, pulling on Seb's clothes, clumsily, and Seb had to help him to rid him of the hoodie and t-shirt. Sebastian pulled Mark's shirt up, and had to lift himself up his tiptoes, to have any chance of removing it. 

Mark laughed and pushed Seb away slightly, looking at him, surveying his upper body, Seb automatically pulled in his stomach. Mark squeezed his arse, and Sebastian suddenly wanted him to stop. Not because he didn't want him to carry on, but being completely naked with this good looking, experienced man made him feel small and insignificant and unattractive. 

Sebastian dragged his fingers through the dark hairs on Mark's chest and used the height difference to touch one of Mark's small dark nipples with his mouth. Mark pressed his head against his chest, his fingers laced through Seb's long-ish curls, guiding him to do the same with the second nipple. It was supposed to be slightly humiliating, slightly off-putting, but it wasn't. 

A part of Seb, the one he was never going to show anyone, wished Mark would push him down, would force him. But Mark was balancing in the verge of being dominant, without being disrespectful, and to Seb's surprise it was quite frustrating. 

Mark lead Seb to his room and pushed him onto the sofa-bed, standing between Sebastian's jeans-clad legs. "Aren't you handsome," Mark smiled. He leaned in, covering Seb's chest in kisses, and though it was nice, Seb was approaching that moment, when he was getting bored out of his mind. The touch he longed for just ten minutes ago lost its novelty, and Seb just wanted to move things along. 

He did just that, pushing Mark onto his back, and straddling his thighs, his erection pressed against Mark's. Sebastian moved his hips slightly, and crawled to the floor, to remove Mark's socks, and opened his jeans. It was a gorgeous view. Mark's thin body, with the last piece of clothing worth mentioning. It was a work of beauty. This – far more than when Seb would get Mark naked. 

There is nothing beautiful about a naked human body. The human body needs an element of suspense, intrigue, promise. Sebastian looked at Mark and wanted to remember this one-night-stand like this, not in the middle of an orgasm, not all naked with a hard cock pressed against his stomach. Like this, with one more step to go, waiting. Sebastian removed his jeans together with his underwear and slid his hands back up the the inside of his thighs. Mark had a beautiful cock, as cocks go. Not too big, but big enough to make a blowjob a challenge. 

Sebastian suddenly thought of the night before, when he was lying in this very bed, imagining almost this situation. Reality felt different. There was worry, and willingness to impress, painful awareness of a severe lack of skills. The last guy Seb blew had a little cock, and even then Seb needed his hands, to keep up the pace. Sebastian distracted himself with kissing down Mark's stomach, before taking the head of Mark's cock into his mouth, letting it slide as far as it got without gagging. 

Seb moved, concentrating on the job, his hand sliding up and down in rhythm with his mouth, his jaw and his neck were getting tired, and Seb really hoped Mark wasn't getting bored out of his mind. Seb wondered, whether Mark was just like him, whether he liked the idea of sex more than he liked sex. Whether he got bored once everyone got fully naked, whether right now Mark wanted to push him away and finish himself off, the way he liked it, the way he did it alone. 

Sebastian really wanted Mark's hand back in his hair, he wanted that hint of dominance back, but asking was beyond him, so he used his busy mouth as an excuse. "Hey, come here," Mark instructed, pulling Seb up by his shoulder, and Seb let his cock out of his mouth, wondering whether he was so bad, whether his inexperience made Mark regret getting it this far. 

"Would you undress, finally?" Mark asked, looking at Sebastian, his hard, wet cock pressed against his stomach. Seb didn't want to, and he worried again about sex. He wasn't ready for sex right now, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Mark that, he couldn't quite work up the courage. 

Sebastian undressed, and Mark sat up, pulling him closer, his hands kneading Seb's butt, Mark's face inches from Seb's cock. Sebastian fought the urge to hide, to cover himself. It wasn't too intimate, it was just not intimate enough. Sebastian wondered, how many others there had been on this sofa-bed with Mark. 

"Come here," Mark said and maneuvered Seb onto the bed. "C'mon relax," he instructed, and Seb tried to, he really did, but being laid open on the bed with Mark's gaze running up and down his naked body, Seb felt as un-relaxed as it went. "Want me to stop?" Mark asked. And Sebastian wished he would stop talking. Talking felt wrong. Wasn't it supposed to go all smoothly, wasn't it supposed to be natural, without the discussions about logistics? 

"I'm not… not ready," Seb finally stuttered, his voice shaking, barely audible. "I know," Mark said. "I'm not going to fuck you, don't worry." Sebastian closed his eyes for a second. He hated talking in bed, but more than anything he hated the word "fuck", it was too dirty, too undignified. He didn't want to be fucking – even though it was exactly what they were doing. He didn't have an alternative though – 'make love' was girly and pretentious and not what you did with a person you barely knew. 'Pleasure' was the closest Seb could think of, but it didn't work very well in the sentences 'fuck' was usually used in.

Sebastian was going through the dictionary in his head, while Mark was kissing his neck, his chest. Mark was stroking his cock and playing with his balls, and it was not bad, but just wrong. Seb liked it quicker, he liked it more purposeful, with the fingers pressed behind the balls. Not that he would ask. "Enjoying yourself?" Mark asked, his lips inches from Seb's ear. "Yeah," Seb said, finding – to his own surprise – that it wasn't untrue, wasn't untrue at all. 

Mark sat between Seb's spread legs, his own cock pressed against Seb's Mark's bigger hand moving up and down. Seb liked the feeling of Mark's hard wet cock pressed against his own, he liked the feeling of Mark's smooth skin under his hands, when he was stroking Mark's back, Mark's arms. It wasn't bad, but Seb wanted it to be over. 

The orgasm wasn't as dull as it usually was, mostly due to the fact that Mark's back arched in pleasure was a very beautiful sight. Mark let go of his cock, bringing himself over the line, and Seb followed suit, the feeling of Mark's thighs pressed against his arse, a nice spice to the precise rhythm of Seb's own hand. 

Sebastian felt their semen on his stomach. He grabbed a towel, barely able to maintain his balance, his breathing still out of hand, the aftertaste of his orgasm still in his body. But Seb couldn't suppress the urge to get rid of the sperm. 

Mark was staring at the dark ceiling, his head on the only pillow. Seb wished he could pull on his underwear and curl next to Mark, rest his head on Mark's shoulder, enjoy the kind of closeness he really longed for. But he didn't dare to. 

"Well, that was nice," Mark summarized and turned to his side, looking at Seb, who pulled a duvet to cover himself. 

"Yeah," Sebastian agreed. It was indeed nice. Seb was looking at Mark and felt lonely. He didn't want to appear to be the needy, desperate person he was. Mark was supposed to think it was exactly the same for him, just some casual fun, just fucking. 

Mark sat on the bed and grabbed the towel. He stretched himself, showing off his beautiful body, grabbed his jeans and underwear from the floor and started to get dressed. Sebastian bit his lip and pulled the pillow towards himself, pressing it in his arms. He felt the cold run up his spine, and moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Good night," Mark said with a smile and closed the door behind himself. 

Sebastian hid his face in the pillow clenching on it. He wondered whether he was that terrible, or that Mark was never going to stay. Sebastian put on his pyjamas, and climbed back under the duvet. He felt empty, but sex has always left him feel like this - underwhelmed and disappointed. But maybe the most disappointing thing was that Mark was in bed next door. 

Sebastian went through everything he did, cringing here and there. Mark probably regretted it, loathed Seb. Someone like Mark must have been very unimpressed with Seb's performance. 

The worst was that Sebastian hasn't expected anything different, the reality was always like this, leaving him with the sense of dissatisfaction, with the feeling of being unfit even for a proper one-night-stand, let alone some meaningful relationships. Sebastian couldn't sleep, he lay in bed trying not to think too much. 

Sebastian looked at his phone checking the time and got out of bed, shivering, when his bare feet touched the cold floor. He got his suitcase out of the wardrobe and started packing. He planned to do it in the morning, but he couldn't sleep anyway, and keeping busy was better than lying in bed feeling sorry for himself. 

Sebastian wondered whether Mark fell asleep, or whether he lay awake just like him. Probably not. Sebastian thought of Mark, of the taste of his cock in his mouth, of the gentle touch of his hands, of the way they moved against each other with the light clumsiness of the first encounter. Though Seb didn't know whether it was true only for the first times - he has never had seconds. And sleeping with the AirBnb host, didn't exactly shout second time, just as the fact that Sebastian was alone, packing his suitcase. 

Sebastian woke up surprisingly late, once he was asleep, his body seemed to have decided that he can do less damage if he slept. When Seb got dressed and packed up the remainder of his things he heard a knock on the door. Seb couldn't help but smile.

Mark was wearing just his jeans and nothing else, and Seb bit his lip looking at him from the floor. His hair was all messy, and yesterday's two-day stubble looked rather on the untidy side now, which surprisingly suited Mark. He was just as handsome in the daylight, just as Mark-y. And Seb was sure it was a thing. "Morning, mate." Mark greeted and leaned to kiss the top of Seb's head. There was something so ridiculously kind in it, despite the fact that kindness wasn't what you wanted from a one-night-stand. 

They had coffee in the kitchen, Mark asking what Seb's plans were before he was due to leave. "I'll give you a lift," Mark offered, sipping his coffee. "I'm meeting a friend in Soho anyway." Seb argued half-heartedly for a bit, but Mark insisted, and soon Seb was putting his suitcase into the trunk of Mark's Volkswagen.

For a one-night-stand it was a surprisingly unawkward morning, and Seb regretted a bit that once he left there would be no reason for him to text Mark. He doubted Mark would want to keep in touch. Seb was just a boring student after all. 

Seb sat on the bus, headphones in his ears, and watched the dull countryside go by. The second part of the term was starting the day after tomorrow, and he really ought to freshen up do some of that reading, that reading week was for. 

Sebastian dived back into the uneventful, mechanical uni life quite easily, dashing from the lectures to the exercise classes, to the old library in the city centre. He loved it, it was all Harry-Pottery, very British. On one of the evenings closer to Christmas, when he was revising for his Advanced Corporate Finance exam, Seb's phone vibrated, announcing a text. 

"Hey, mate, hope you are well. In exam stress already? Wanna come over for the weekend?" said the text from Mark.

Fin.


End file.
